Helping a Hero
by RedRose0123
Summary: After a couple of desperate teenagers contact the Justice League for help with finding their friend who's been missing for more than a year, the Young Justice team must go on a rescue mission to save a fellow hero...or Young Justice meets DP after an unfortunate series of events
1. Prologue

**Helping a Hero**

 **By: RedRose0123**

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 **Disclaimer: If I owned either Danny Phantom or Young Justice, I totally wouldn't have this as fanfiction it would be canon. But sadly this is the best I can do so...I don't own either of the aforementioned shows. And I don't own the Justice League either!**

 **Prologue:**

The day I was rescued started like any other. There were no signs from above that said to me, "Oh, hey look, we felt pity for you and now we're sending help so be awake tonight, will ya'?"

No my freedom came very suddenly for someone who had been held captive for-

How long had it been? How long was I held there? I remember trying to keep up with the days by scratching small, thin lines on the wall beside where I slept, but they didn't like that. They started giving me some kind of medicine to keep me "compliant," but really I think it was just to disorient me enough so that I couldn't fight back. And I would have fought back if given the chance, but I started having the black outs after that- minutes first, and then hours at a time. After a while I would just wake up with open wounds and new scars and have no idea how I got them and that really freaked me out for a while, but then I just-.

I'm sorry, I'm rambling again aren't I? Here I'll start over:

The day I was rescued, I woke up to another day in my own personal hell.

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 **A/N: Firs** **t attempt at a crossover. I just like the idea of DP meets Young Justice. This is not a one-shot and yes I know this is short. The other chapters will be longer. I'll try to update within a few days- Saturday at the most.**

 **Published: 2/01/16**


	2. Chapter 1- The Mirror Room

**Helping a Hero**

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 **A/N:** **Wow! 19 Followers in less than 24 hours, pretty impressive considering this is my first real story. I just wanted to write a thank you note to everyone who liked, favorited, or reviewed this story. I really appreciate the feedback. Now that I got that out of my system:**

 **As promised here is the first chapter of "Helping a Hero." I really hope you guys like it!**

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 **Chapter 1- The Mirror Room:**

 **DP POV: 5:00 AM, Compound**

 _The day I was rescued, I woke up to another day in my own personal hell._

"Rise and shine, Ghost-scum!" My nightshift guard (Larry? Lucas? Something that started with an "L") shouts as he turns on the bright over-head lights. He reminds me of my old gym teacher—big and loud and always ready to throw a punch. Usually those punches were aimed at me. From the way he stands I would say that he was ex-military, probably dishonorably charged with the way his temper flairs up too. I wouldn't have believed it a few years ago, but I actually miss hanging out with Ms. Tetslaff during gym, at least she couldn't actually hit me.

"Didn't you hear me, Ghost-punk? I said, 'Rise and shine!' That means get up, now!" He yells at me while walking inside my cell. Well, it's not really a cell, it's more like an "observation" room. Three of the walls are made of one-way mirrors, and I know why too (I've seen those detective movies). They want to see whatever I do when I'm not with them, how I do it, and whenever I do it (which is super creepy by the way). I sit in the corner to the left of the door, next to the only real wall of the cell. I have plenty of scratches in neat little rows until it gets to about fifty-something and then they taper off and become less frequent and smaller, uncertain, until you get to the edge of the mirror-wall. There the scratches just abruptly end.

I don't move from my spot while he's yelling; I know better. As the old saying goes, "I'm doomed if I do, and I'm doomed if I don't. Might as well don't." This particular guard is temperamental, and I've already experienced what happens around him—plenty of times. If I follow his orders and get up, he'll take off the Plasma Taser on his belt (all the guards have them) and shock me until I pass out for "threatening" him, and if I don't follow his orders he'll use it like a cattle prod to get me to stand up. This isn't something that I can fight him on, in fact it's fairly typical. At least this way the pain only lasts for as long as I take to get to my feet.

And sure enough as soon as he got within range, he pulls the weapon off and points it in my direction threateningly. "I said get up, boy!" He yells once again before striking. Jeez, I didn't even have enough time to brace myself this time. A familiar pain spreads throughout my system instantly and my muscles automatically start convulsing at the electricity, but even though it hurts—a lot—this is a familiar pain and can usually be dealt with. I grit my teeth and concentrate through it. One hand pushes me off the ground while my feet rush underneath me to balance my weight out.

The pain stops after I'm on my feet, but the aftershocks of the electricity are still flowing through my body: my arms still seize wildly from my lack of control.

"See, isn't it better when you just follow orders?" The guard asks in a false sympathetic voice while grinning at me like a cat that just ate the canary. That's it, I officially hate him—he just earned himself the name Larry. But I don't voice this newfound hatred like I would have if we had met…earlier in life, they had already beaten whatever resistance I had out of me.

This is actually a pretty typical way for my mornings to start, I mean there have been worse mornings with worse guards, but this is usually how I get woken up. I actually have a pretty reliable schedule that I try not to be too thankful about, but it's really hard not to be thankful because I remember what it was like in the beginning. Those first few horrible weeks in the first facility with nothing but "really, really painful experiments," beatings from the guards, and hours of nothing but sitting in a plain white cell really made a person think about what was important in life. It wasn't a very happy time: I tried to escape all of three times before I gave up because after the last attempt I just didn't have the energy for another (the beat-down I took for that last one was brutal). And I tried to keep up with the time that passed while I was there but failed miserably at that too.

In that time I figured out that stability is very important to me—it means that I can predict what's going to happen—well that was pretty important, but there was also two more things on my priority list: sleep and food. Imagine their surprise when they figured out that I had to eat and sleep like a normal person to exist. They figured it out eventually—after a week or so of starving me to death. It's a good thing my ghost-form is so durable or else I wouldn't have made it.

Shortly after they figured out that I wasn't quite what they thought I was, they moved me to a different facility, I think, because here nobody wears those bug-eyed gas masks when they're around me, and my ghost-sense doesn't go off every few minutes like it used too. Oh yeah, and I got that snazzy new mirror room where I could see every bump, bruise, and blood stain everywhere I turned.

Other than the blatant lack of privacy, this new room isn't as bad as the first. I have a cot to sleep on, a small bedside table full of the stupid white uniform they want me to where, and a sink in the back corner (with a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a plastic cup of all things—I guess they got tired of me having stinky breath). Those are some of the most precious personal items I own other than the black comb that they gave me for "good behavior" (I liked that guard—her name was Mary). The only other thing in the cell with me is something to "entertain" myself: a red bouncy ball. Seriously, how old do they think I am? I know that I'm short and all, but I've gained a few inches, and, after that run-in with Dan, I know that I'm going to hit a growth spurt sometime within ten years. I don't look _that_ young, but I've got to admit that on the rare afternoons that there isn't anything scheduled for me to do, that bouncy ball has kept me sane. My high score is 783 bounces without dropping it or being interrupted by the guards.

I'm getting side-tracked again, aren't I? Well anyways, my schedule is pretty decent. I get up at five every morning, six on Saturday, if it's going to be a good day. After they wake me up I have fifteen minutes of uninterrupted free time—I'm guessing that they expect me to get dressed and ready to go. I'm escorted from my cell to the gym, which usually only takes about fifteen minutes. From five thirty to seven thirty I practice in the gym to let the scientists test and monitor my powers, and they let me have a water break at six o'clock and seven o'clock. On a more positive note, I can now successfully lift a little over a ton. Which is pretty impressive considering I only weigh like what?—175 pounds…or maybe it's 165?

After I'm through with the full body work out, I get to go back to my cell and they bring me breakfast. The food isn't any better than the cafeteria food I ate back home (it even comes on one of those cafeteria trays too!), but at least the meals aren't trying to kill me like my mom's. However, I'm pretty sure they drug the drink that they give me at night because after dinner I'm out like a light.

After breakfast I'm whisked off to somewhere else at eight o'clock. It's always to either flight or fight practice, which usually takes up the rest of my morning and goes on until at least two o'clock, with a lunch break at twelve and periodic water breaks. I don't know why but the scientists are insistent that I constantly train to improve my powers and take care of my health. They always have some new technique for me to fly faster, hit harder, shoot straighter…it's all very annoying to say the least. They won't let me quit until I do it perfect at least fifteen times. It's a welcome distraction from the monotony from my cell but…at the same time though I can't help but wonder why they would want me to do with these newly acquired skills. It makes me nervous.

Training takes up most of my day, but after that my day is smooth sailing with me just hanging out in my room (probably being watched by those creeps) until dinner. Unless it's a Friday, in which case I'll be taken from my room after thirty minutes to go to a lab, where they proceed to strap me to a bed and test different things out on me. There isn't much more they can test on me at this point, I think. I've got scars from numerous tests and procedures that I can't exactly remember but have terrible nightmares about. The tests are the only reason I get to have an extra hour to "rest and recuperate." The only thing they do that is consistent, however, is to pump me full of what they've called the "C.M." I don't really feel like doing anything after that—thinking, talking, or…hurting them for what they've done to me. I will follow orders, though, whether I want to or not; it's not like I have a choice. I hate the way Fridays end—a lot.

I have a theory that they created those drugs specifically for me and that my body has learnt how to counteract them, but that it takes almost an entire week to lose the potent effect of the drugs. After about Wednesday, I can start resisting in my own little ways and by the end of Thursday I am fully capable of doing whatever I want. The second part of my theory is that the blackouts—those times when I can't remember anything for a specific amount of time—are from times when the doctors gave me extra medicine and my mind completely shuts down while doing whatever they tell me to do, like a living puppet. Well it's either that or a side-effect of taking the CM.

The idea of training me and using me as a (half) human puppet is a totally ridiculous idea on their part though because why would they want a super-strong, well-trained captive who hates your living guts?

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 **Published: 2/03/16**


	3. Chapter 2- The Greatest Hack

**Helping a Hero**

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 **A/N:** **Sort of short chapter, but the longer version got too long and this was the only appropriate ending place I could find. Sorry about that, but I didn't want to wait too long to update. Also I think I'm going to start updating weekly so that I have enough time to proof-read my work. There is also the fact that I have two essays due on Wednesday, but…anyways, thanks to everyone who has read, liked, followed, or posted a review I really appreciate people reading and commenting on my work. I've answered a few people's reviews down at the bottom if you want to read those. Also just wanted to let you know that my absolute favorite character is in this chapter. Well, anyways, on with the show:**

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 **Chapter 2- The Greatest Hack**

 **Sam P.O.V: 12:58 am, An Undisclosed Location**

Far away from the compound where Phantom was being held against his will, three teens surrounded a triple monitor computer with multiple lines of code and data flashing across the screens. Sitting at the keyboard was a dark-skinned boy, glasses reflecting the information that flashed across the screen, becoming faster and faster as it went. This was hard, the hardest hack he had ever done for sure, but he would do anything for his brother in everything but blood. This was everything they had been working for, and he was sure that he had the right coordinates this time…he might have hacked two other satellites by accident. Oh, well.

"How long?" The girl to the left asked. She had changed a lot while on the run, but the one thing that didn't change was her love for anything and everything black. She traded in her favorite tank top from last year for a more sensible long-sleeved black and purple Dumpty-Humpty T-shirt and a black leather jacket over the shirt. She also ditched her skirt for a pair a black skinny-jeans after she found out that plaid was becoming "mainstream" again. The only things she kept was her signature black combat boots, they were a gift from her grandmother, and a small necklace attached to the ice diamond that…Danny…had gave her after the incident with Undergrowth.

"You have to give him time. He's trying to hack a basically invisible fortress floating around in space. This is a delicate operation." The response to her question was made by the nervous, older girl on the right, Jazz. Her red hair was tied up into a ponytail and she still sported her teal headband that her mother had bought for her, but she, too, had changed while on the run. She had traded her comfortable black sweater out for a long-sleeved teal shirt with a jean jacket and her teal colored jeans got traded out for a more inconspicuous pair of dark jeans. She also took an idea from Sam: those combat boots are a great thing to have on the run—great for tripping and kicking people when threatened.

"Yeah, Sam, this is a 'delicate operation'—you try hacking into a secret base located in space with _the_ Batman's firewalls blocking you out! Trust me, I _make_ this look easy." The boy's hands moved across the keyboard with more precision and speed than Sam thought capable. She took a moment to step back and realize that this was _Tucker_ , the same Tucker that she had known all her life. The very same Tucker that had failed gym and named his PDA's was the very same Tucker that was at this very moment breaking into the Justice League's secret base. Well, maybe.

"Are you sure it's even real? I mean, come on, a secret satellite in space to monitor Earth?"

Sam let her sarcasm sink into the tense air, voicing her nervous concerns and serious doubts.

"Of course, I'm sure! Where else would they put it? Besides, my info was solid this time. I know I've got the right place because this thing has more coding than the Pentagon. Just a few more firewalls to go." He took a moment from typing to straighten his glasses and readjust the sleeves of his black sweater. He also took the moment to discreetly rub the accumulating moisture from his palms onto his black cargo pants: he was nervous about what was about to take place, about a lot of things, actually, but he would never admit that to Sam, of all people. She could tell, but if he actually voiced his doubt she would probably just glare at him or tease him for even having second thoughts about hacking and threatening the League: Danny's life was on the line.

There was a few minutes of tense silence before it was pierced with a joyful shout.

"Just about…got it!"

{This is a line break, line break, line break}

High above them, in a supposedly secret Watchtower, the JLA's secret monitoring system was hacked at one in the morning, with a looped recording showing three teenagers asking, more like demanding, for help in finding their friend. There was also a frantic Flash that sounded the emergency alarm for all the "Originals" to come in for a meeting. Whoever this Phantom character was, he must have been super important for someone to have hacked the Watchtower to directly ask for help.

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 **A/N: Like, follow, review. Give me some feedback people. Until next time guys –RedRose0123**

 **Published: 2/08/16**

 **Totes Awesome:** Really sorry about this one, but I'm pretty sure that the next chapter is going to be super long.

 **Guest of honor:** Thanks! And I guess we'll both find out later, it's according to how the story plays out, but I really like both of those ideas so…

 **me:** I'm not really the best at a fem Danny but I could work on a one-shot that might turn into something later for you.

 **Loki:** Of course, you do, you're the god of mischief!

 **Kimera20:** Thanks! And I really do hope that this chapter is good too.

 **Good Witch of Babble:** I'm glad you like it! :D

 **Kairi102:** Thanks, and I'm hoping that this chapter was pretty good too, even if it was short.

 **NoSignalBlueScreen:** Thanks so much for the advice and I try to proof-read before I post but sometimes I miss things. If you see anything wrong, like grammar mistakes or repeated words, please tell me and I'll try to go back and fix them because I'm a bit OCD in my writing. And I see that mistake often on this sight too and I absolutely hate it because the dialogue and the characters get mixed up in my brain. Thanks for reminding me though because Chapter 3 has a lot of dialogue and I really am excited about it.


	4. Chapter 3- The Meeting

**Helping a Hero**

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 **A/N:** **Sorry for the long wait. I do have a reasonable excuse. I got into a bike wreck, my computer restarted while I was working on this (which deleted most of the work I had prepared), and my schoolwork was piling up. Don't worry though, I'm back in business and ready to write. I have some pretty cool ideas that I'm working for with this story and I'm trying to follow my timeline, but after a certain point (I refer to it as Act 1) I don't have anything wrote down. I'm completely open to new ideas and suggestions, so please feel free to add in anything on a review. Also (and I'm just warning you) I have a tendency to get off track and distracted but I'm still trying to keep on that schedule I was talking about. As a reward for being so patient with me I should be posting again sometime in the next few days just to make it up to you all.**

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 **Chapter 3- The Meeting**

 **Industrial District, Gotham City, 12:30 AM (Earlier that night)**

 **Robin POV:**

"See anything yet?" I radio over the communicator.

"I told you to maintain radio silence until I give the signal." A menacing voice radioed back.

"Sorry, Batman…but have you?" Sometimes my bravery astonishes even myself.

"Yes, I'm in the rafters of the building, and there have been two groups that have come in. One with four men and the other with five. Looks like we're going in on maneuver three on this round, bud, still waiting for the ring leader, but so far we have seven guns." So he isn't too mad at me, that's good.

"So definitely maneuver three, do you want me to prep the EMPs?" A simple mission it was then—now if only the ring leader would get here. We've been after this group for months now because of their particular MO. We only uncovered this group after one of their own got arrested after participating in one of Joker's schemes and claimed he had information for us, if we could get his sentence reduced.

Long story short: instead of serving three sentences, now he only has to serve one. We learned that this group is relatively small and new, but it is up and coming in Gotham's criminal. This group had been infiltrating all the big gangs in Gotham for months now and had footholds in and filled major positions in many different gangs. This gang was so well hidden though that if the informant hadn't squealed than it would have took us a few more months to find its existence—we weren't looking for them after all.

"Yes, but don't go in yet. We need to do a bit more surveillance before we can take them down, but make sure you have the Alfred Alert on if anything goes down okay?" Batman's voice breaks me out of my thoughts; they shouldn't be wandering during a mission anyways, anything could happen, and I've got to be at my best.

"Yeah I got it—." Something like Gotham's unpredictable nature striking again.

A huge explosion came from a tall building a few blocks over. I heard rather than saw people running and screaming away from what used to be a Falcone warehouse and is now a big flaming bonfire. _Holy Habana, Batman! That's huge!_

"Maneuver three, Robin, now!" Batman yelled into the communicator as he ran towards the burning warehouse.

I'm guessing that's the signal. _Alright, Robin, go time._ I quickly made my way down to where the up and coming gang were waiting for their leader before Gotham decided to make our life harder. I made sure I stayed cloaked in the shadows, after all I'm not an amateur.

After making sure that the ghost was clear, I silently slipped inside the calm warehouse through an open window, unnoticed by the occupants that we have been watching for over an hour.

***Line break***

I'm ghosting around the warehouse staying in the rafters—in the shadows, like how I was trained. This a really important mission and I can't afford to screw it up.

As I get closer to where they are gathered together, I can make out voices and the dim flicker of a computer screen.

"…you…project…coordinates?"

"Not yet, boss, but we're trying."

I face palm while listening to the conversation below. Let's see: electronic voice, no one interrupting, and has a strong and compelling attitude. This coupled with the fact that the person responding is saying "boss" points only to one thing: we were waiting for nothing, the boss was never going to show because they were going to have a long-distance meeting.

"I don't pay you f…othing have you found Lex L….or Batman yet?"

The voice coming across the computer is a bit low, so I can't really hear what the voice is saying from my position, but that is easily fixed. I get out my mini-computer to locate the signal of the computer, and easily find it. _Okay here we go, Robin, time for you to shine_. I started hacking the computer signal that was letting the "boss" talk to his minions, hopefully I can hack in undetected and listen in.

"Not yet, boss, we done made him an offer though." The person answering his questions has a strong Northern accent. _Locals, then._

It takes me only a little bit of time before I can listen in on their conversation.

"How have you made him an offer if you can't even talk to him?" I can hear the sigh that wants to be let out after that statement. I wonder—.

"Oh, Robin, how nice of you to get our invitation!" _How did he even know I was here? I'm basically a ninja for crying out loud!_ "I was expecting Batman, so I had made sure to have some people here to convince him to listen to my proposal, but this is even better. We won't be needing the guns after all, boys, since Robin's here. He'll listen. So here's the thing Rob—."

"I don't usually do what criminals want me to. It's part of the hero code or something." I interrupt as I jump down in full view of everyone and can finally see the computer screen and the person who apparently had known I was there and listening in. As the goons see me they tense with their hands on their guns…this is about to get difficult. I get a birdarang in my right hand and prepare to press the EMP device to disable their weapons.

"Wait!" The computerized voice startles us from our stand off. "You haven't even listened to what I have to say yet. They'll leave if you just talk to me, right boys?" At this the more skittish goons who had had run-ins with the bird in the past nodded emphatically.

"They'll leave if I say that I want to talk?" I ask for clarification, a bit of disbelief in my voice. I mean who gives up a perfectly good hideout that was connected to the main hideout anyways? Either a new player to the game, or someone who actually wants to talk. That's very…strange.

"Yep. Lower your weapons boys, and do me a big favor: get out…now!" At the raised voice the goons take off from the warehouse. I wait for a moment, tense and unsure of what exactly to do. Well at least until a cheery but disarming smile breaks out across my face.

"Well what do ya' want to talk about?"

 **Batman's POV:**

"Maneuver three, Robin, now!" I yell as I run towards the explosion. I run off the side of the building I had been standing on jump into the air. Shooting a jump line as I do.

Scenarios and questions race through my head as I fly through the air. Who could be behind it this time? Joker? Pamela? Arsenic thugs just trying to get an adrenaline rush? Or maybe something wasn't stored properly?

When I stop, I'm a few meters away from the warehouse. Of course…it had to be one of mine. I'm probably going to have to go through a lot of red tape because of this tomorrow. _Sometimes…_

I start looking around for any culprits or clues still at the scene of the crime, but there was no sign of anyone being there other than some recent foot prints that could have come from the odd passerby. I hope Robin is having better luck than I am.

Speaking of Robin, he should have reported in by now. After the last time he was kidnapped he has took to a habit of reporting in every five minutes just to tell me what he was doing. I better check up on him.

"Robin do you read?"

Nothing, but silence filled my communicator.

"Robin do you copy?"

Usually this kid would be talking my ear off, unless—

I quickly pulled out my Robin locator and homed in on Robin's utility belt…and blew out a sigh of relief. He was inside the warehouse, right where I left him.

A flash of anxiety washes over me…maybe I can go and check on him—just in case. He can help me collect soil samples when we get back and help tell me what kept him, usually he would have done defeated them and come looking for me. Yapping his head off about how he force fed a man his kneecap the entire time.

I make my way back to the warehouse to search for my little bird.

 **A/N:** ***Mental squeals* I absolutely love Robin. Anyways...who is the person that Robin has met and will Batman make it there in time to meet the mysterious figure? You don't know, but I do. :D**

 **Published: 2/29/16**


	5. Chapter 4- Gathering Intel

**Helping a Hero**

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 **A/N: This chapter actually took a lot longer than I thought it would, but it's finally finished and I can post it without having to go back and edit so that my favorite readers can take a look. Okay I'm just going to make sure of one thing though: everybody gets that some of the chapters are like flashbacks right? Because if you didn't, your timeline is screwed up for this story. Sorry about that.**

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 **Chapter 4- Gathering Intel**

 **Tucker's POV: 12:40 AM, Undisclosed Location**

Okay this is good right? I'm looking at the Boy Wonder. And he's staring straight at me. Well not at me, but at Skulker…well technically he's looking at an emoticon that Skulker is talking through.

So he definitely doesn't know I'm here. Skulker doesn't either for that matter.

I have the drop on them both, and with a press of a button I can interrupt them. I just need Robin to step closer. I wait patiently to see if he would take just a couple of steps closer.

Come on little birdie your falling right into my trap, just one step closer. After a couple minutes of waiting on Robin to take one little step closer a voice to my right yells at the computer.

"Oh my gosh just take a step already!"

I turned to see Jazz glaring at the computer screen in front of me.

"Jazz, these things take time." I heard Sam chime in softly from my left, gently squeezing my shoulder as she spoke.

Just as Jazz was about to counter her argument, Robin stepped in the range of my remote computer and it automatically starts to decode Robin's wrist computer. I turned to see Sam already putting on her headset to listen closely in on the conversation between the young hero and Skulker, her entire focus on the screen to my right as she watched and recorded the interesting conversation. Now it's time for what I do best and that's hacking. I manually take control of the hacking to speed things along.

Within a minute of him standing in the circle, I was in. Well, not exactly in because a new updated firewall would appear every forty five seconds, but I would let the automatic decoder deal with those for now. The decoder won't be able to keep this up for long, but I just need to stay in long enough for me to finish downloading the information banks off of his wrist computer.

Almost…and got it. Everything that was stored on that device is mine now. I hope it has what we need. Now to get out of the device before the Boy Wonder figures out he's been hacked.

It takes only a few moments to go out the back-door that I've created in Robin's device, but after I'm out I delete the evidence with almost no trace that there was a hack at all. I'm pretty certain that I've got us the information we need now, but now we've got to find going to take us a few minutes to go through the files to find what we need.

I bring up the newly acquired files and stare for a second, stunned. There was no backup encryption…if anyone else had gotten through the firewall like I did (given it was an extremely advanced firewall) then they would have been able to read the information freely, just as I'm doing.

It's even organized…alphabetically…with pictures. So the Boy Wonder really is just a kid, hmm.

I glance over at Sam where she is listening in on the young hero's and mercenary's conversation, and catch a glimpse of the distaste on her face and then she winced.

I wonder what's got that look on her face for a few seconds before I turn back to my screen and continue going through the meticulously organized files...maybe this won't take so long after all.

 **Sam's POV:**

Tucker gets to work as soon as Robin steps into the circle. Typing away like a madman while grinning like crazy. I don't even think he's aware that he looks like he is five seconds away from clinically insane.

I look towards the screen showing the confrontation between Robin and Skulker and decide to listen in on how the experienced young hero deals with the megalomaniac ghost that is Skulker, I might be able to discern something from their conversation. I even put it on record just in case Jazz wants to listen to it later.

I focused in on the conversation just in time to hear the rest of Robin's sentence.

"So who are you supposed to be…ghost rider? Cause I mean if you are, you're a pretty good cosplay."

"You are starting to annoy me already, child."

"Whoa listen here, buddy, you wanted to talk to me first!"

"Nevertheless, boy, I'm here on an important assignment, so let's get straight to the point."

"Which is?"

"Have you seen the ghost child?"

A look of confusion passes over Robin's face. "Who?"

"We've been searching through the city, but this hunt has proved fruitless so far. My boss is willing to offer you and your partner a bounty for his _safe_ return."

"Wait, hold on, back to my previous question: who is this 'ghost child?' Also what do you mean by _ghost_ exactly?"

Skulker and I do a face palm, as if saying "Jeez, man, haven't you ever heard of the most haunted city in America?"

Skulker relays my thought to the Boy Wonder: "You've never heard of Amity Park or the ghost child? It's the place where the ghost chil-," a sigh came out of his mechanical mouth, as though he was recalling something, "where the Phantom was born."

"Phantom is a ghost, a very powerful ghost that used to be the hero of Amity Park, until he went missing last June. And yes, I do mean a ghost as in 'boo!' I'm a ghost to if it makes you feel any better."

"So you want me to do what, exactly?" Robin tilts his head to the side, thinking of what it would mean if Skulker is what he says he is.

"I want you to convince your partner to search for him. Hunt him down if you have to, but he must be found. Apparently he's vital to the time line, or at least he is according to some people."

Is Clockwork looking for Danny to? My face goes pale, is he working with Vlad to find Danny?

"How old is he?"

"Sixteen, he was fifteen when he was took. Why is his age important?"

"You'll see. Batman will be here in a sec." Robin flashed a reassuring smile at the screen.

"I'm already here, Robin." A figure shrouded in black emerged from the shadows. Scary, at first glance, and terrifying should he ever turn his gaze on you.

"Nice of you to join us, Batman." A cocky smile from the child was sent to his mentor who had been there to overhear the last few lines of their improvised meeting.

I didn't even notice that he was in the building. When—how did he get in the building without me noticing? How did that kid know?

"Robin, who is this?" He turned his penetrating white eyes to the colorful, cheerful child.

"Oh…Batman, this is Skulker, a ghost, and he says that he is in need of our detective services."

"Yes, the child is correct. I am looking for a missing perso-."

"No."

He turned to walk out of the room. I could see Robin's shock at his mentor's refusal written all over his face.

"Wait! Batman, I need to talk to you. Listen I know this seems fishy, but I have a good feeling about this."

"Robin, no means no." His tone established that the conversation was over, but you don't become The Batman's partner by being a pushover.

"But-"

"No buts, get to the Batmobile. We have to find the arsonist that blew up that warehouse. I will meet you there."

Robins face was filled with a mixture of shock, betrayal, and hurt. After a second, his face twisted into anger. "No!"

Batman stopped and then turned his head around at the refusal, and if he wasn't wearing an emotionless mask I would say that his face was filled with shock.

"What did you just say to me?" I wince at his harsh tone. Jeez, Bats, chill. Robin's only like, what, ten? Eleven?

"I said no! You're going to hear me out on this. A child is in danger right now and you gotta' reconsider Batman. He's just a kid, and he's been missing for a year. Skulker here says that the kid was a hero from Amity Park, I think. He says that he's following up on some leads, but was trying to get our attention to ask for our help. If the kid was a hero I say that we at least give it a shot." That kid has serious guts. Even I wouldn't be able to glare at Batman while he was giving the famous Batglare. Slowly, though, the Batglare lost its intensity.

"…Alright."

The Boy Wonder threw an incredulous look at his mentor before a large smile broke out over his face. "Really?"

"Yes, I'm trusting you're judgement on this one."

"Well, this a really sappy moment and all, but if you're going to help us with this then I need to send you all of my leads so far. Connect to the computer and I'll send you the files we've compiled so far."

While Robin did this he went on with his explanation, "We think that the GIW were involved in the beginning, but a week into searching for the boy, the organization was disbanded. And Phantom was gone."

"You checked the facility?" Batman asked, looking over the new data that was being streamed in onto his device from Robin.

"Of course, I checked the facility. I searched the whole thing myself, but there isn't even a trace he was there."

Skulker has always been testy when his skills are under question. He still hates me for the Purple-Back Gorilla incident, I think. But really, he was trying to kill us so…I think I'm even.

"It says here that the Ghost Investigation Ward was shut down for illegal human experimentation and misuse of government funds about nine months ago." Robin butted into the conversation without looking up from his scrolling on the mini-computer. "But it also says that a secondary privately-owned agency is on the rise: SPECTOR, a special government research team whose main objective is to capture and study ghosts."

"We'll look into it, but—." The communicator hooked on Batman's belt went off, interrupting the vigilante.

As soon as he got the communicator to his mouth he growled into it: "This better be important."

For once, the call was actually very important.

* * *

 **A/N: Going on a small break, but I will be back after school ends. ~~~RedRose0123**

 **Published: 3/10/16**


	6. Chapter 5- A Cry for Help

**Helping a Hero**

* * *

 **Ch. 5- A Cry for Help**

 **A/N: Okay, so let me just say this. I am so, so, so,** ** _so_** **sorry. That break wasn't supposed to last that long. It was a combination of school work, stress, and a very messed up sleeping schedule. Apparently, I'm nocturnal and I can't fix my schedule so I'm just going to have to get used to being irritable and mean to other people cause I can't go to sleep until four in the morning and get woke up at nine. But that's okay I'll just use the hours where I'm contemplating existence while staring at the ceiling to write on this story and that should work out a whole lot better than what is going on now. Did I mention I'm sorry? Well, I am. Seriously.**

* * *

 **Batman's POV: 1:05 AM, Warehouse District**

"Sir, one of the Justice League is attempting to contact you." Alfred's very familiar accent drifted over the communicator with no obvious infliction in his tone.

"Which one?" I asked while ushering Robin closer to me after he unhooked his holo-glove from the computer standing underneath the screen with the _still_ unknown variable.

"It is the Flash, sir. Should I patch him through?" Alfred asked.

"Patch him through." I answered, annoyed just by the thought of Flash.

Less than a second later, Flash's exuberant yelling and panicked voice flooded over the communicator in a stream of incoherent words that blended together.

"Bats,oh,thankGod,wewereabletocontactyou!There'sbeenabreachattheWatchtower,andthere'sthisvideothathascomethroughfromthesekidsandtheyrethreateningtoreleasealotofinformationifwedon'tfindthey'refriendandIcalledeverybodyforameeting—."

"Flash, slow down, take a breath and repeat what you just said. _Slowly_." I interrupt Flash's incoherent babbling.

"Okay," Flash says and takes a deep breath before starting over, much slower than he would like to, "There's been a breach at the Watchtower."

"When?" I practically growl at the man on the other end of the line.

"Exactly two minutes and thirty-three seconds ago. I've contacted the original seven members of the League, because there was this video that camethroughand—." He stops himself, "Sorry."

"The video that came though is a bunch of kids that are threatening us with some information that we don't want to be public."

"What type of information, exactly?" My eyes cut to the screen of our temporary informant, a sudden suspicion forming in the back of my mind. I subtly motion for Robin to come and stand beside me.

"Everything—secret identities, home addresses, phone numbers, public and private records, weaknesses and strengths—anything and everything that we don't want out. They've got proof, and they're holding it over us." He tells me panic setting back in over his voice.

"Did they say what they want?" I bite out angrily. How would someone get all of that information unless they had been planning this for months? There had to be something to connect this with. A new player in the game, asking for help, and now the League being threatened. It could be a coincidence, except for the fact that I don't believe in coincidences.

"They want help finding someone. His name is Phantom." I turn towards the informant on the screen, and narrow my eyes, mouth set in a grim line. My suspicions have been confirmed.

"I'll be there in thirty minutes. Do not let any other League members see the video until I get there."

* * *

 **Phantom P.O.V.: 7:20 AM, Compound, Room 219**

This is hell.

My knees bend under the pressure and my shoulders are sore from the strain.

…

I wish they would let me rest. Even if it were only for just a moment.

…

Just a moment. I'm so tired.

…

It's always more, more, _more_. Always just a bit more.

…

Can't they see me? Knees shaking, shoulders aching, teeth clenched, and sweat beading down my face from the burden weighing me down.

The only thing keeping me from falling on my knees and just letting this great weight crush me is stubbornness.

Pure, undiluted stubbornness. A will stronger than steel. It's what has kept me—is keeping me alive.

It is this this stubbornness that has me setting my shoulders, and locking my knees. It is this stubbornness that has me raise the great burden higher over my head and glare defiantly ahead of me. I think of my family and my friends as another bead of sweat rolls down to my chin.

I will not die today.

…

Another pound is added to my burden. I grit my teeth harder.

I will not die today.

This is hell, but I will not die today.

* * *

 **Batman P.O.V: 1:20, Batmobile**

I looked to the left where my partner was sitting in the passenger side. He was slumped over, with his head propped up with his hand staring out the window, completely used to what most would call my "suicidal" driving.

"I'm sorry," a small voice to my left interrupted my musings on how most would have an outright heart attack if in Robin's current position.

"You have nothing to apologize for," I responded gently, automatically. I understood exactly what he was apologizing for. He argued with me while we were out and in front of an informant that is now our only lead. Under different circumstances it could have gotten us both killed.

"I know your upset with me and I'm sorry. I just felt like this is important, like this is the right thing to do. I…I just wanted to do the right thing and…to make you proud."

I slammed on breaks and turned my head sharply to look at Dick. This is a bit more important than a nearing catastrophe at the moment.

"Listen…," I've always been horrible at expressing myself, "I will always be proud of you, even when we argue." I ran his statement through my head again, hesitated, and then added, "Also I'm not upset with you so get that thought out of your head."

"You aren't?" He looked at me with the start of a grin on his face.

"No, I'm not." Does he really care that much about my approval?

"You mean it?" He grinned his thousand-watt smile and it felt like my soul was finally seeing the light once again. He was the only one able to get me to feel like smiling when everything could literally being falling down around us.

"Yes." I reaffirm once again, just to keep that smile on his face for a few minutes longer.

I silently start the Batmobile and start driving again. We sat in silence for five minutes until a very strong British accent broke the silence.

"Sir, the Justice League is calling again should I put them through?"

Great, what now?

"Which one?" I ask. I really don't want to talk to Barry again, he's too much of a child and I've already told him that I would be there in a little bit.

"It is Superman, sir." Oh, God, no, not the oaf in blue tights.

"Is it an emergency?" I really don't want to deal with him right now. Robin will go all fanboy again. Well, maybe not, considering Clark's recent treatment of his clone, Conner.

I sigh, "Never mind, patch him through."

"Yes, Clark?" I growl at him because, really, I told them that I would be up there to help remedy the situation soon.

"Batman, did you hear about what happened?" Clark's usually boisterous voice was dark as he started speaking.

"Of course I did." There short and sweet and he can leave me alone for right now.

"They're threatening us." Or not. "All of us, including you. They know who both you and Robin are, Batman."

"Well then, we'll find Phantom and see why he is important enough to have the entire Justice League rain down on their heads." I respond knowing that I couldn't become worried or angry because those feeling would only slow me down. "I have a few leads that I will discuss at the meeting in…five minutes." I look over at Robin to see that he is scrolling through his holo-glove at an alarming rate, with a signal on the upper right portion of the screen going off. "I'm bringing Robin with me."

"But I thought—." I cut off communications with Clark to see that Robin is looking up from his glove, staring at me in confusion, even though the screen continually flashed as if in warning.

"What happened to your glove?" I ask him.

"My back-door protocol picked up a bug." He said looking back down at the screen and goes back to typing rapidly.

"Meaning, someone tried hacking into my files…and from the looks of it they succeeded."

* * *

 **A/N: Again I am so, so sorry for not updating sooner and will try to have the monthly updates back on schedule. I plan on updating every first Saturday of each month. And if I'm late you all have my full permission to message me and nag as much as you please until I do update...seriously.**

 **Published: 7/4/16**


	7. Chapter 6- Meeting New Faces

**Helping a Hero**

* * *

 **A/N: Okay, I'm just going to ask everyone to keep Dallas, TX, in your hearts and prayers. There was a massive attack on the police force at a peace rally for other shootings going on in America. This has been the worst attack on officers in America since the events of 9/11 with seven officers shot and injured and five officers announced dead. Also we need to remember the two men who were gunned down in Louisiana and Minnesota of whom the peace rally was for. We need to remember that this issue with race is not a reason to cut countless lives off in their prime. This isn't a debate about whether the protesters or the police officers are right or wrong. I'm just pointing out that all lives matter: no matter the race, religion, or country of origin. There is no reason to kill people when we can change things with words. Remember: "The pen is mightier than the sword."**

 **I'm sorry for ranting, but this has really upset me and I'm not even** _ **in**_ **Texas right now. All those families and lives destroyed because one man had to play as God. It makes me sick to my stomach just to think about it.**

* * *

 **Ch. 6- Meeting New Faces**

 **Phantom P.O.V: 9:35 AM, Compound, Room 187**

I've got to come up with a plan if I want to make it until lunch.

Okay, there are ten lasers coming from the ceiling and a giant robot determined to have a Fenton shish-cabob. What's a guy whose normal superhuman powers are being restrained by an ectoplasmic disrupter supposed to do? Well I—.

Gotta' move, right now!

I roll out of the way of the oncoming laser and stop in a crouch low to the ground. Then I take off at a run for the robot and as it launches itself at me, I jump up onto the arm and run precariously up to its shoulder to kick the laser that was next to it. I just got to knock it off of its perch and then maybe this insane grid shooting would slow down and I won't die.

It would be really good if I don't die.

The laser spins around on the axis holding it up; I must have loosened it from its bolts. That's good.

What's not good is that every single time it sees me when it turns, it shoots erratically. It reminds me a bit of Dad's shooting actually. More specifically, when Dad was aiming at me. But that's okay, I can work with that.

And it apparently wants to work with me because just as I'm about to be knocked to my admittedly very-prepared-for demise by the very robot I'm doing a funny little dodging-dance on the laser shoots the robot in the head blowing up the upper part of the robot's left eye and, I presume, some of the robot's circuitry.

I say presume because what happens next was actually fun, but not in the "I just went to the fair" way, it was more like "I just survived the roller-coaster that thirty people have died on" way. So not very fun and more terrifying than anything.

The robot, for lack of a better word, "spazzed" out. Literally. The arms started shooting randomly at the walls and me…oh and those pesky lasers that were still trying to kill me. Not to mention the fact that it started running around in circles. Let me just tell you: not fun.

I was holding on for dear life when everything shut down. I had found the indention that the laser had made on the robots face to hold on after my *ahem* carefully thought out plan went to hell.

I didn't even know that the chaos had stopped until everything went silent. Like creepy, horror-movie silent.

After I worked up the courage to peek away from the robot's head (that I was so totally not clinging to), I noticed why everything had stopped—including the robot. We, the robot and I that is, were about to feet from crashing into the wall. Left shoulder first. Phantom, in very vulnerable human form, first.

I would have died and I wouldn't have even noticed. Some hero I am. I can't even save myself.

 ** _"_** ** _Phantom, get off of the training robot."_**

A mechanical voice over the intercom breaks me out of my self-pity. I glance over to the black intercom in the corner of the room and then to the viewing wall, where there is probably a whole bunch of people is writing down and discussing my new failure. If there had been civilians—.

 ** _"_** ** _Phantom, do not make me repeat an order."_** That cold mechanical voice is back.

Right, focus. Nothing is going to change what just happened. Focus. I look down from my perch on the robot's shoulder and mentally make a path before I start climbing down. It's hard, but not impossible. I make it down in under ten minutes, but in that time the door to this particular training room opened at least three times. I'm facing the robot's leg when the voice appears again.

 ** _"_** ** _Phantom, keep facing the robot and put your hands above your head."_** What is up with them talking like I can't understand them? Phantom do this, Phantom do that. Did they think I planned to do that? It's hard not to feel at least a bit of pride that they would think that I'd rather by dead, fully dead, than to spend another minute in this hell-hole. I comply with their demands anyway.

Though I have to admit, I am rather curious about why they don't want me moving. I can hear several different footsteps all walking towards me and the robot towards the back of the room. At least three sounds military, you can tell by the way their gait is even and almost silent. The next two must be some of the scientists because they're the ones shuffling their feet and shifting nervously. Another is a woman, not one who works here either. She must be important—I mean why else would she wear stilettos in a place like this?

My curiosity gets the best of me and I carefully turn my head to the side, trying to get a glimpse of what's behind me. There! Out of the corner of my I can see several different people. I was right about the two scientists, and the fact that they do appear nervous to be this close to me. There were two guards, Plasma Tasers at the ready, who were (you guessed it) guarding the two strangers in the room.

The first conclusion that I could definitely make about them was that they were most definitely rich. The second was that they were not here for any reason that benefited me. I came to these conclusions because they were dressed rich and looked like they were mean. Not kidding, they were wearing high-class name brand clothes that would send Sam screeching about the environment. And I guess I can't really say that the man looked mean, he looked more like a B-class movie villain, with the bald head and a sleazy smirk that said "everything is going to go according to my plan." The lady looked nicer than him. Well if you count the fact that she wouldn't lie about attempting to kill me "nicer."

 ** _"_** ** _Turn around Phantom. Slowly."_** The guards tensed at the order projected at me and I turned around as slowly as possible, making every movement visible. It's like the guards thought that at the first chance I got, I would try to kill them.

They're not wrong. Well…maybe not kill, but I would hurt them pretty badly. Not today though, I've got on this handy-dandy ectoplasmic disrupter that won't let me rip their arms off of their body. Too bad.

When I'm finally turned around, I study my "guests" in more detail. Now that I'm looking at them head on, I can see that the lady is standing slightly in front of the man and glaring at me. Almost like—oh, she's guarding the man from any sort of threat that I can make to the man. I glare back at her for a minute before getting amused at the fact that at the moment she could probably take me head on and beat me. Stupid ecto-disrupter could get me killed. The man on the other hand is standing with his hands behind his back steadily looking me up and down. The image reminds me of "uncle" Vlad, and suddenly I feel very vulnerable in my human form.

When he finishes looking at me like I'm some sort of prized race horse he nods dismissively and turns to the scientist beside him holding a clip board and trying his very hardest not to seem nervous, whether from me or Richie Rich.

"I'm assuming his name is Phantom?" the man asks with just that bit of condemnation in his voice.

"Yes, sir, that's the only name that he responds to." The scientist whom I now recognize is the scientist that is over all of my training exercises responds with a bit more confidence in his voice than what his body language projects. I read his the name on his tag, Dr. Roberts. I'll remember Dr. Roberts' name for later.

"Really?" The man turns to look at me and then says, "Phantom, put your hands down."

This felt like some sort of test or trap. I look at the small crowd staring at me and then slowly put my hands down, unsure if I am supposed to follow the man's orders or not. After a minute or so of not getting shocked, I start to relax, that position with my hands in the air _was_ starting to get a bit tiring.

The man nods a bit to himself after my hands are down and then with a bit of skepticism and sarcasm in his voice he turns to Dr. Roberts and says, "Doctor, what can you tell me about this 'Phantom.'" It wasn't a question, it was a demand.

The doctor started out slow, but halfway through speaking his eyes were bursting with enthusiasm and a bright smile was on his face, "Well, Mr. Luthor, as far as we know Phantom is the only one of his kind. He is an ectoplasmic entity that can take on human form and needs what we need to live, but also the raw ectoplasm from his home dimension to survive. It was tough at the beginning to adjust our facilities and staff to acquaint to his needs, but through trial and error we have figured out the best way to deal with his rather disconcerting abilities and train him rather effectively." Here he stops to take a breath and after a moment of thought he shakes his head like a disapproving parent, "Though as you saw earlier his human form is much more of a liability than his ectoplasmic form. We have ran him through plenty of tests, but what he can do easily in his Phantom form, he has trouble doing in his human form. It is a bit of a conundrum that—."

The now dubbed "Mr. Luthor" stops him from continuing and, with a bit more cynicism in his voice than earlier, asks, "His abilities?"

The doctor nods his head nervously at Mr. Luthor, "Right. Phantom currently has a total mastery of 11 of his abilities and three abilities that we are still working on with him. Though at the speed with which he developed these new abilities over the past two months it places credence in the fact that his appearance looks so…juvenile. This means that he could gain more at any given time as he progresses with age." Mr. Luthor waves his hand at him with an exasperated look, motioning for him to get on with it, "Right. Phantom has full mastery over flight, invisibility, intangibility, overshadowing, super-strength, cryokinesis, limited manipulation of forms, full manipulation of ectoplasmic energy, and enhanced senses and reflexes. We theorize that if he were to go up against Superman with just brute strength alone Phantom would win."

"What did I say about talking about him? He's caused enough headaches already. It just wouldn't due to have that brute hear you say his name and bust down the wall to find our new project." Mr. Luthor sent Dr. Roberts an annoyed glare and rubbed his forehead to prove his point.

This is worse than the nightmare scenario that just took place with the giant robot and lasers. It sounds as though Mr. Luthor doesn't want Superman, one of the greatest hero's ever, to find me. That understandably points out that Mr. Luthor is a bad guy. I'm standing in front of a bad guy and I'm powerless to do anything about it.

"Anyways," Mr. Luthor made that hand motion again, getting back both the doctor's and my attention, "That's only ten, what is his eleven power?"

"Oh," the doctor looked away quite flustered, "well, though we haven't been able to fully test this one it is a blast of sound quite like Black Canary's cry, but at least five times as powerful and very destructive. The problem with testing this is that Phantom can only do it once every week or so because it uses up so much of his depleted ectoplasmic energy. It causes a lot of stress on his body and he's not able to properly operate. We would need to bring him outside to see how destructive the wail actually is, but that would alert all the superheroes to Phantom's existence."

"Yes," Mr. Luthor smirked and looked back to where I stood silent and still as a statue, "and we wouldn't want that would we?"

* * *

 **A/N: I know I said I was going to update on Saturdays, but with me taking such an extended break and everyone waiting on me to update, I felt that I had a responsibility to update again to make it up to you guys. The next update will be on August 6 so I should have at least three more chapters wrote so that I can focus on school, which sadly starts August 11.**

 **Published: 7/08/16**


	8. Chapter 7- Mission Update

**Really long Author's Note:**

 **Okay guys the only way to do this is to say that I'm very, very sorry about the delay with this story. School was much harder this past year, but on the bright side I'm finished with it. As in, I am totally done with high school. The last bit of school has brought a lot of headaches with it though. I was working on getting accepted into a great college near my home, and focusing on school this past year has totally paid off! I've been accepted into college on a scholarship (which is wonderful since it's a private school), but I really need to get another one to pay for books and stuff so…yeah still working on it. Also I got a job back in March which has led to a lot less free time for me. I've been meaning to post this chapter ever since I graduated back in May, but college orientation distracted me for a bit and the extra paperwork for scholarships and stuff is literally killing me. However I was determined to post this, and I am working on the next chapter so hopefully we'll see some more Danny action. The only thing I ask is that you guys don't try to kill me for not posting. Also, this is a full warning: I'm really trying to start an updating schedule but my job is part time and it's making my hours erratic at best and downright crazy at worst, so I've got to write around it and I don't know when the next chapter will be out. But I do have help in the form of my new beta reader who is totally helping me out by pointing out mistakes or plot errors (I'm going to have to go back to previous chapters and update those) I'm really sorry about that guys. Okay done with excuses, time to get on with the story!**

 **Helping a Hero**

 **Chapter 7:** **Mission Update**

 **Batman's POV: 1:15 AM, Watchtower**

" _ **Batman 02"**_

As soon as my ID was announced from the zeta platform, the Flash was in front of me and talking fast-as usual.

"OkayBats,Ididwhatyousaidanddidn'tletanyoneseethevideo,butIdon'tknowwhy—." Barry's hands flew animatedly with his panicked voice.

" _ **Guest: Robin BO1"**_

Flash's head snapped over to me and asked slower, "I thought you said that we weren't allowed to bring the kids on the Watchtower?"

"There's been a change in protocol." That's sufficient enough of an explanation until I can see the video and learn what we're up against. "Where's the video?"

"Right." The Flash nodded his head at me and then motioned behind him, "The video started playing on one of the screens in the monitor room and has been replaying ever since. I started up the facial recognition software, but these kids are good. They're not anywhere in the system. No criminal records, no misdemeanors, no warnings. Not even a speeding ticket. It's like they don't exist!"

I nod at him, motion for Robin to follow me and then march to the monitor room. Barry knows the ropes when looking for people. Of course I would have to double check all of his work to make sure he didn't miss anything, but he is a forensic investigator for the Central City Police Department. He's good at his job. He would have made sure to look up everything before telling me this information. Maybe I should give the Flash a bit more credit, he does know what he's doing, at least sometimes.

"So this is the Watchtower?" I hear Robin ask Flash behind me.

"Yep, though I thought I wouldn't see you up here for a few more years at least." Flash's response is quite a bit more animated than his conversation with me had been. I guess he enjoys Robin's company quite a bit more than mine. Understandable.

"Well, this _is_ an emergency. I probably won't be back up here until I'm much older after this." Robin's response is to the Flash's earlier unanswered question. "Don't worry, KF will be up here much sooner than I will."

That's as far as their conversation progressed though because even though I was gathering more information on both my colleague's and my son's feelings on this subject, we had arrived at the monitor room.

I immediately notice the video and memorize the faces of the three teenagers on the screen. They're quite a bit younger than I was expecting for evil criminal masterminds.

"—find Phantom. This is the only thing we ask and then I'll personally delete the files." A girl with pitch black hair was talking in the video. "We did not want to threaten anyone, it's just that we're desperate!" The unnamed girl gave a pleading look at the camera that hardened into determination as she finished her speech, "So please just find him and we won't have to do anything that we might regret. You have forty-eight hours before the files are released."

The video cuts out and then restarts, "Hello…"

"Well?" The Flash asks breaking my concentration after we reached the beginning of the video twice. "What do you think we should do Bats?"

I sigh and turn away from the screen. I will personally go through every second of this video later to analyze for clues, but for right now the mission has changed.

I turn and look at Flash who has taken off his cowl and is looking at me anxiously. "We do what they say."

"WHAT?!" If this had been anytime and anywhere else the Flash's face might've been comical, "But we're the good guys! We don't do what the bad guys want!"

"This time we do. That girl wasn't bluffing. She _will_ release our secret identities to the public if she has no other choice, but we aren't going to give her that choice. We're going to have to do what she wants. We're going to have to find Phantom." I tell him grimly.

A fragile silence hangs in the air for a second, as if nothing wanted to break it. I look back at the screen before turning away once again in thought. I will personally go through every second of this video later to analyze for clues, but for right now the mission has changed. It can't be a coincidence that two different groups are asking for help in finding the same person. They both want the "hero" of Amity Park, but why? And why did he go missing in the first place? More importantly how are we going to find him in 48 hours?

"Umm…Batman?" Robin's voice breaks me out of my thoughts once again. I glance over to him and see him pointing towards the door. The rest of the League was standing at the doorway. It would have been an impressive sight if I weren't the one to have brought them together and taught them how to use their strengths as an advantage for the entire team. So, in other words, it would have been impressive if I didn't know how to bring every one of them down.

I turn back to the video and download it onto a flash drive, before walking towards the door motioning for my protégé and the other Leaguers to follow me.

We walk for a short while in silence until we get to the conference room. It's usually only used for mission strategies during world disasters, but I think we can make an exception today. I plug in the flash drive and start the video for the rest of the League to watch.

 **A/N: Okay so not my longest work, but trust me when I say that the next one will be a lot longer like...a lot longer. Anyways thanks for everyone who's stuck with my story so far. Please comment and let me know what you think is going to happen next. I absolutely love reading reviews for this story!**

 **-RedRose0123**


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